


Off Brand

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Boot Humping, Boot Worship, Embarrassment, F/F, Incest, Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, boot licking, non-body fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Allison got new boots. Vanya notices them more than she thought she would.





	Off Brand

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Electra XT, my ever lovely beta!

Vanya almost dropped her mug of coffee when she saw Allison's new boots. 

She had heard them before she saw them— Allison clomping down the hallway in them— and she had thought it was Luther. But no, here was Allison sitting at the kitchen table, her long legs stretched in front of her, and she was wearing… those boots. They were combat boots, which were not exactly a new thing around the Hargreeves household, but these were _blue_. A deep, midnight blue, catching the light and reflecting it back into Vanya's face. 

"You okay, Vanya?" Allison said, breaking Vanya out of her reverie. 

"What?" Vanya tried to jolt herself out her daze. "Yeah, sorry. The, uh, the coffee hasn't kicked in." 

The boots were laced up, tight around Allison's ankles, and Allison was wearing a pair of jeans, the cuffs draping over the laces. She looked so infinitely comfortable in her skin, and some kind of longing was filling Vanya's stomach, although she wasn't sure what the longing was for. 

"You need to be careful with all that caffeine," said Allison. "I think it's making you jittery."

"I think you're not used to me showing much in the way of emotions in general," said Vanya. 

Allison pulled a face, and Vanya almost instantly regretted the jab?

"Sorry," she said. 

"It's okay," Allison said. "I'm just, uh, getting used to living together again, I think."

"Right," said Vanya. They all were. What better way to get back into the groove of things than by living together again, the way they had as kids? And okay, some of it was Allison not wanting to rent an apartment as she stayed in the city, and Klaus not having anyplace else to stay, and Vanya wanting to get out of her own apartment, and Diego being sick of the boiler room, and Luther living her anyway, but… still. 

It was _also_ to get closer!

Closer than most siblings - Vanya had heard enough sneaking between bedrooms (to say nothing of muffled moans, thumping bedframes, and creaking box springs) to know just how much sex was going on. With her powers no longer blunted by the medication, it sometimes felt like she could hear _every_ sound, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. Thank god Klaus had let her pilfer his headphones and his Walkman, even if his music taste was vastly different from hers. 

Vanya was struck with the vivid image of sneaking into Allison's bedroom at night and running her fingers across the shiny blue leather of the boots, and the shock of heat that ran up her spine left her staggering. What the hell. They were just boots. _What does the leather taste like?_

"Vanya," Allison said sharply. "Are you alright?"

"Right," Vanya said. She cleared her throat. "Fine. I'm fine. Sorry."

"You're turning red," said Allison, and then she was _standing up_ and Vanya's eyes were drawn to her feet, and the light reflected off the boots, making the blue that much deeper. She was staring at her own face, upside down. 

Vanya tried not to gasp when Allison's hand on her forehead. She was still staring at the boots. 

"You're not feverish," Allison said thoughtfully. "Just flushed." 

"I'm fine," Vanya squeaked out. Her nipples were hard and her cunt was pulsing like a star. She wanted to drop to her knees and lick Allison's boots, wanted to feel the toe of them against her cheek, shoved onto her face, the back of her head. 

"You look sick," Allison said. "Are you sure?"

“I’m sure,” Vanya said, and she gave what she hoped was a Totally Normal smile. “I’m doing great, Allison, I promise.” 

“If you’re sure,” Allison said, and she patted Vanya on the cheek in a way that might have been a bit more than familial. Or maybe Vanya was reading too into it. Her whole head was just a mess right now. 

“I’m sure,” Vanya said, yet again. “So what’s with the boots?”

“Do you like ‘em?” Allison extended her legs, circling one ankle. 

“They’re, uh… they sure are neat,” said Vanya, and she cleared her throat. “I don’t… remember them.”

“Yeah, I got ‘em on a whim,” said Allison. “Do you think they suit me?”

“They sure do,” said Vanya. “They, uh… they very much do. They’re nice.” Oh god. Was she being too weird about it? She was, wasn’t she? Allison would be able to tell, and Allison would think of her as some kind of disgusting creep. 

“Thanks,” said Allison. “I haven’t worn combat boots much, since Dad always made us wear ‘em for missions, but… well, these aren’t really official combat boots, are they? And Dad would have hated them, since they’re blue.” 

“Right,” Vanya said. She was responding from a long way off. She was so horny she wanted to go back to her room and masturbate. She had to go to work, but she was so _wet_ she’d be sitting with cold, slimy fabric up against her cunt all day. 

_Fuck_.

“You, uh, you have a good day,” Allison said. She sounded faintly nonplussed. 

“You too,” said Vanya, and she cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’ll be more human later, I promise.”

Allison grinned at her, relaxing a little bit. “Don’t worry about it,” she told Vanya, and she tucked a piece of hair that had slipped out of Vanya’s ponytail behind one ear. “Just try not to space out during rehearsal. That doesn’t sound like it’d go well.”

“No, I’d get yelled at,” Vanya agreed. Allison’s skin was very warm, and Vanya was probably imagining the knowing look in Allison’s eyes, but… still. She blushed harder. 

“Wouldn’t want that,” said Allison, and she patted Vanya on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight?”

_She may be wearing the boots tonight_, thought Vanya, and a wave of heat seemed to slowly pass over her, leaving her weak in the knees. 

“You’re going red again,” Allison said. 

“Gotta go, bye,” said Vanya, and she set her mug down quickly, grabbing her violin off of the spot by the counter and practically running out the door. It was a coward’s way out, she freely admitted, but at that moment in time she very much didn’t care. 

* * *

Vanya very pointedly didn't think about Allison, Allison's boots, or even blue leather all day. She played with a vigor that got her compliments from the conductor, and she tried to ignore the way her power was beating at her control. The woman in front of her had a red leather purse, and it looked just as smooth and shiny, and Vanya was _not_ thinking about what it would feel like to run her tongue along it. 

Vanya was lying to herself, but at least she could admit it. That had to mean something, right? She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom, and she tried to get her thoughts into something like order and tried not to think about pressing her cheek against shiny blue leather… 

Her nipples were hard, although her sweater more or less hid them, and her eyes were dark. She looked debauched, and she wasn't sure what to do about that. At least nobody would notice. People didn't really notice her anyway. 

She would be fine. 

* * *

Allison was still wearing the boots at dinner time. She sat across from Vanya, and occasionally her foot would bump against Vanya's. Vanya would stutter out some awkward apology, and stare down into her cottage pie. 

"Vanya, darling, are you alright? You look sick." Grace put a hand on Vanya's forehead, and Vanya flushed harder. The toe of Allison's boot was pressed against her own foot, and if she was barefoot that smooth, shiny leather would be _touching her skin_. 

"That's what I was saying earlier," said Allison. "Wouldn't wanna come down with something."

"Nope," Vanya said faintly. "Definitely wouldn't." She was holding on to her fork so tightly that her knuckles were white. 

"Are you sure you're alright? Your heartbeat is elevated and—"

"I'm fine, Mom," Vanya said, as the boot pressed against her ankle. "Absolutely… fine." Allison was grinning, and Vanya felt a bit like some part of her brain was shorting out. Did Allison _know_?

"If you're sure," Grace said, and she patted Vanya's cheek, as Allison's foot withdrew. 

Vanya looked down at her plate, then at the concerned faces around her, and she smiled in what she hoped was a completely normal way. 

Maybe she needed to go on a date. She must have been desperate, if she was fixating on boots like this. Although then she caught Allison’s eye, and Allison’s toe nudged against her ankle again. 

She just had to survive dinner without combusting. 

* * *

Vanya didn't _plan_ to sneak into Allison's bedroom the next night. She had lain in bed and thought about those boots. She had resolutely not thought about the way her pussy had throbbed desperately, about how badly she wanted to make herself come. 

She was just in Allison's bedroom to… well, she hadn't thought up a reasonable reason to be there. Maybe it she just ran her fingers across the boots, if she just stopped _fixating_ on them, she would be fine. She would just… hold one. Touch it, see that it was just a boot. That was fine. Totally normal and totally fine. 

She licked her lips and rubbed her hands together, standing in the dim light streaming in from the hallway. She should have turned the light on, except then people would see and... no. She didn't want anyone to know what she was doing. It felt like she should have been… hiding. Like she was doing something shameful. But she was just going to look at her sister's boots. That was a normal thing, right? A normal sister thing— sisters borrowed stuff from each other, right? She could borrow the boots!

… Except Vanya's feet were at least three sizes smaller than Allison's, and had been since they were about ten. So that would never work as an excuse. Maybe she was borrowing something else? Except she and Allison wore completely different sorts of clothes. She had never expressed an iota of interest in wearing Allison's clothes. Maybe she could claim it was in the hopes of sisterly bonding?

She stood in front of Allison's wardrobe, her hands sweaty, and she tried not to feel like too much of a creep. Klaus borrowed Allison’s stuff all the time, and they weren’t the same size either, were they? 

Even in her heart of hearts, Vanya knew that it was different, but she wasn’t in the mood for hard truths right now. She was horny— she was more than horny, she was _desperate_ for something deep in the back of her head that just wanted. She didn’t even know what she wanted, beyond the obvious “blue” and “smooth” and “leather” which felt like an odd thing to want so badly. 

And yet.

She opened up Allison’s wardrobe, and she tried not to wince at the way it creaked. She squinted, leaning a little further in, and then… there they were. Front and center, at the bottom of the wardrobe. They reflected the light back dully, and when she picked one of them up, the leather was just as smooth as she’d imagined. Almost shiny.

_I wish I had the lights on_, she thought. To be able to see the deep blue. _I wonder if Allison knows it’s my favorite color_. She raised the boot up towards her cheek, and she nuzzled into it. The leather was cool and smooth against her cheek, and the scent of it was like a fancy cologne. 

She was shivering. She was so wet it was sticking to her thighs, and her bare toes were curling into Allison’s rug. She rubbed the toe of the boot against her cheek again, and it was so smooth and silky she almost wanted to die. Die of what she wasn’t sure, but she was still getting used to having so many feelings at once. So really, why not get all bent out of shape and worked up over… blue leather combat boots.

At least she wasn’t masturbating. She was very resolutely not masturbating. She might have been pressing her thighs together a little tighter than was necessary but she was _not_ masturbating. What would it be like, to rub her clit and feel that smooth leather against her tongue at the same time? To come with the coolness of it rubbing against her face? 

Her hand was sinking down between her legs, pressing the seam of her jeans against herself, as her tongue darted out to taste the leather. It would be quick, so she could carry it back to her bed with her, and hump her own hand in shame. It would be the perfect crime, and Allison would never know. Vanya could carry her horny little secret around and nobody would be the wiser. 

And then the light turned on. 

"Vanya?" Allison's voice was coming from the doorway, and Vanya yanked her hand away from her crotch and almost tossed the boot away. 

"Allison!" Vanya could still taste the leather. Her heart was beating so loud that her powers were starting to resonate with it, and the window was rattling. "Sorry, I was just—"

"Were you _licking_ my _shoe_?" Allison looked incredulous. 

"It's not what it looks like!" 

"I don't really know what else it could be," Allison said, and she crossed her arms over her breasts, looking straight at Vanya. Vanya was pinned down like a bug on a card. 

"Well... I don't know what you think is going on," Vanya said, and she could practically hear the creaking of the metaphorical thin ice under her feet. 

"I think that you're going through my closet to lick my boots," said Allison. She took a step into the room, and then she was... _closing the door behind her_, oh god. 

Vanya was dead. She was so dead. She was going to be rumored into who even knew what, or maybe Allison would tell the whole family and then they'd all know she was a sick freak and she'd go back to living in a small, dark apartment by herself on the outside of her family until she died alone and unloved. 

"I would expect this sort of thing from Klaus," said Allison, and she began to walk towards Vanya. She was just wearing socks, and her steps were very quiet. She was right in front of Vanya, and Vanya looked up at her. Vanya was still holding the boot, even if she wasn't grabbing herself between the legs anymore. That had to be something, right? 

"What sort of thing?" Vanya was looking up into Allison's face, and she wanted to kiss Allison, she wanted Allison to kiss her, she wanted Allison to tell her off, she wanted... 

"You just want to jerk off to my boots," said Allison, and she plucked the boot out of Vanya's unresisting hands, then went to her wardrobe to get the other one. "Klaus has a thing for high heels. I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe shoe fetishism is a thing in our family. It's probably Dad's fault, like everything else is."

"I was just... checking it," Vanya said, and she was lying through her teeth. She knew she was lying, and she knew that Allison knew she was lying. But did Allison know that she knew that Allison knew that—

"With your tongue," Allison cut in, before Vanya's brain could tie itself into further knots. 

"Um," said Vanya. 

Allison was just... sitting on the bed. Sitting on the bed, putting her foot in the boot. "Well?" She indicated the untied laces.

"Well?" Vanya was gibbering inside. 

"Help me put my boots on," said Allison, indicating the boots in front of her. "Since you're obviously so fixated on them."

"I'm not... fixated," Vanya stuttered out. It was, quite possibly, the most blatant lie she'd ever told. 

"So you weren't licking my boots," said Allison.

"It was one boot," said Vanya, before her brain could catch up with her mouth. 

"So you were only licking one of my boots?" Allison raised an eyebrow. 

"I..." Vanya trailed off, looking down at her bare feet, curling in the rug. 

"I guess you're not going to help me put them on, then," said Allison. She leaned forward, and Vanya could see straight down her shirt. Allison had beautiful breasts and Vanya wasn't going to be thinking about it.

"Sorry," said Vanya, and she dropped to her knees, her hands shaking as she reached for one boot. It was a little warmer, form being in contact with Allison's skin. The leather was still shiny and smooth under her fingertips. "Do you, uh, do you want this... tight?"

Allison was wearing black skinny jeans, and Vanya was trying not to blush as she held the tongue back, adjusting it to sit more comfortably over the top of Allison's foot, then began to lace them up, just as carefully, her eyes on the white laces over the blue leather. "So why were you licking my boot?"

"It's nice," Vanya said, because even _she_ wasn't sure why she was fixating like this. 

"Do you lick everything you think is nice?" Allison's hand was going to the top of Vanya's head now, sinking into her hair. 

Vanya looked up at Allison through her eyelashes, her whole face turning red, and she bit her lip. She couldn't think of anything else to say, so she looked back down, carefully tying the laces. 

"Do you know why I bought these boots?" Allison rolled her ankle, rubbing more shiny leather against Vanya's palm. "They're not really my usual style, are they?"

Vanya shrugged awkwardly, her arousal sticky against her inner thighs. The seam of her pants was pressing against her clit through her boxers, and if she met Allison's eyes she might just _die_. 

"I was thinking about the fact that I haven't bought a pair of shoes that weren't outside of my ‘brand’ since I was first starting out as an actress, and that was... a good long time ago." Allison presented her other foot, resting her booted sole against Vanya's thigh. "I thought, ‘I'd never get away with wearing blue men's combat boots on the red carpet,’ and as soon as I thought that, I had to have them." She ground her heel into Vanya's thigh, hard enough that Vanya hissed, her eyes squeezing shut. "Do you think they suit?"

Vanya nodded, still embarrassed. 

"I want you to say it," said Allison, and the hand on the top of her head made her look up into Allison's face. 

“I think they suit,” Vanya said, then; “can I have your other foot, please?” 

Allison extended it, and Vanya carefully put it on her foot, then adjusted the tongue, so that it sat a bit more comfortably. Then she began to tighten the laces.

“Vanya,” Allison said, “I _know_ you’re turned on. Are you going to deny it?” 

Vanya snuck a glance up at Allison’s face, and her stomach seemed to be trying to climb up her throat. Allison’s eyes were dark, her lips swollen. She was panting, and when Vanya looked down, she saw Allison’s nipples poking out. 

_Oh_. 

“I, uh,” Vanya began. “Um.” She was being included. She was being included, in a way she hadn’t ever been before. Oh _god_. How did she even respond to that? She knew how to flirt with strangers… sort of. She wasn’t sure, when it came down to it, if she knew how to flirt, per se, or just how to be flirted with, but… well, she knew how to get into bed with a stranger. But her sister? Was there something wrong with her for thinking about this, for even—

“Vanya,” Allison said, in a firm voice, “show me.”

“Sh-show you?” 

“Stand up,” said Allison, and there must have been some rumor harmonics in that, because Vanya was standing in front of Allison now. “I want to see,” Allison said. “I want to see how much you want this.” Her fingers were on Vanya’s hips, digging in just enough for Vanya to feel it. 

_She’s turned on by this_, thought Vanya. _Holy fuck, Allison is turned on by this. Allison is turned on by me_. It was a heady feeling, and Vanya licked her lips. 

“I want you to show me,” Allison said, yet again, and Vanya’s whole body seemed to be on fire. She could see Allison’s gorgeous face, she could see the boots, she could see down the front of Allison’s shirt. Allison’s breasts looked very soft, and she wanted to put her face in them, almost as much as she wanted to put her mouth on Allison’s boots, and what did it say about her that she wasn’t sure which she felt weirder about?

“What do you… what do you mean by show you?” Vanya resisted the urge to rub her hands together, or to rock on the balls of her feet. She wanted to kiss Allison, she wanted to get on her knees and beg, she wasn’t even sure what she wanted right now, she just didn’t want it to stop.

“Take your pants off,” Allison said. “Take everything off. Since you… since you like my boots so much, show me.”

“Show you,” Vanya echoed, and her hands were going to her waist now, fumbling open the fly of her jeans. She was shoving them down before she had much of a chance to think, her hindbrain working before her actual self could catch up. “Like… like this, Allison?”

“God,” Allison said, and her hands went to Vanya’s thighs, right to where the waistband of Vanya’s pants caged her in, keeping her from moving her thighs, “look at you. You’re so wet.”

“I’m sorry,” Vanya said. “I’m sorry, I know it’s weird, I just…”

“You like my boots,” Allison said. “You really like them, huh?” One booted toe pressed against Vanya’s shin, still covered by denim, and Vanya nodded fervently. 

“I like them,” she said. “I like them a lot. They’re very nice.”

“Do you get this wet over every nice thing you think about?” Allison’s hand was tentatively reaching between Vanya’s thighs— then with a little more assurance, as she pressed down on the seam of Vanya’s labia, then between them. Her thumb found Vanya’s clit, and Vanya shivered.

_My sister is touching my cunt_, beat through Vanya, in time with the gentle rocking of Allison’s fingers. 

“I asked you a question,” Allison said sharply, and she withdrew her hand. “Take your pants off for me completely, and then get on your knees.”

Vanya’s stomach gave another anxious little flutter. She kicked her jeans off, her boxers, and then she was back on her knees, staring up at Allison’s face. She was shaking, aware of how ridiculous she looked in just her button down, bottomless, on Allison’s rug. At least Allison had a rug, instead of the bare floor. 

“I don’t… you’re nice,” Vanya said. 

Allison’s fingers were pressing into her mouth, and Vanya sucked the taste of her own cunt off of Allison’s fingers, as Allison’s booted foot pressed between Vanya’s legs. It nudged against Vanya’s vulva, then fell back down. The leather was cold against the overheated skin, and when Vanya looked down, she saw that the blue had acquired even more of a shine. 

“Do you want me or my boots?” Allison’s fingers under Vanya’s chin, forcing Vanya to look up into Allison’s face, and Vanya reached out, trembling, clutching at Allison’s knee without even thinking. 

“Yes,” Vanya said.

Allison let out a snort of laughter, and some of the tension broke. Vanya began to laugh, her face pressed into Allison’s thigh, and Allison was laughing as well, her fingers going to Vanya’s hair. She tugged the hair tie out of it, leaving Vanya’s hair to cascade down around her shoulders, and then she was nudging the toe of her boot against Vanya’s cunt again. 

“I… like you. Love you. A lot.” Vanya was babbling, and she scooted back a bit more, so that she could straddle Allison’s boot. The shiny curve of the toe was under her ass, and the laces were up against her clit. She ground her hips forward, and the drag of the rough fabric of the laces was… it was a bit much, but she threw her head back, letting her mouth fall open. 

This was probably the most depraved thing she’d ever done. It was like something out of a weird porn movie, assuming they made weird porn movies where people humped other people’s boots. Was that a thing? 

Allison pressed the other boot into her thigh, and she had a hand in Vanya’s hair now, forcing more eye contact. “I never knew you were such a pervert,” she said. “God, look at you. I love watching you like this.” She increased the pressure on Vanya’s thigh, and Vanya sobbed again, brokenly, and her cunt spasmed. 

Vanya came, clutching at Allison’s knee, her hips jerking forward like she was some kind of awkward horny teenager dry humping in the back seat of some car. There was sweat and possibly a few tears dripping down her face, as Allison’s eyes held her in place, and she slumped forward, her eyes drifting closed.

“Wow,” said Allison, and she sounded faintly impressed. “I didn’t know you were that easy to, uh… get off.” Her fingers were combing through Vanya’s hair. “How are you doing?”

“I… got you all messy,” Vanya said, and she couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. They barely even had time to enter her brain before they just came… pouring out, _fuck_. “Let me clean you up, Allison, I’m sorry, I messed up your boots.”

“How do you wanna clean them up?” Allison tugged on Vanya’s hair, and that little spike of pain made Vanya shiver, more arousal throbbing through her. The steady thump of her heartbeat was grounding her, even if it was also magnifying her powers. 

“With my tongue,” Vanya said. “I want to lick your boots, please, Allison, can I lick your boots?”

“Wow,” Allison said, and Vanya’s stomach dropped. _That was too much to ask for_.

“I’m sorry,’ Vanya said. “Forget I—” 

“Get on all fours and do it,” Allison said. “Clean up the mess you made.” The hand in Vanya’s hair was pushing her down, and Vanya shuddered as she lay on her belly on Allison’s rug, her pussy wet and sore, her shirt soaking up her sweat. 

“I’m sorry I made a mess, Allison,” said Vanya, and she stuck her tongue out, as the toe of the boot pressed against her cheek. It was still slimy with Vanya’s arousal, and Vanya ran her tongue along the curve of it. Her own musky, salty taste mixed in with the taste of the leather, like some kind of expensive cologne. She ran her tongue along one of the seams, and her nose bumped against the slimy shoelaces. She was dizzy with her own scent, leather, with Allison’s own scent, of hair products and perfume and soap. 

“You’re okay,” Allison said, “but I think… I think maybe you just want to be sorry.”

Vanya lapped along the shiny leather, and the heel nudged against her cheek. The other boot pressed into her thigh, and she whined, a long, drawn out sigh. “Can you…” she began, then cleared her throat. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me,” said Allison. “I want to know.”

“You’ve already done so—”

“Vanya Hargreeves, if you do not tell me right now, I will sell these boots to the nearest pawn shop,” Allison said sharply, and Vanya gasped, her hands grabbing at Allison’s ankle tightly.

“Please don’t do that,” Vanya said meekly.

“So tell me what you were going to say,” said Allison.

“Could you… could you put them on my face, please?” God, Vanya was depraved. She’d already gotten to come from the boots, and she was asking for more. God, she was a selfish monster. 

"I will if you promise me something," said Allison. 

Vanya nodded, licking her lips. She wasn't sure what she was agreeing to, but she would agree to almost anything at this point. 

"Do you… do you want me, too? Or is it just the boots?" Allison's voice shook, just a little bit. Vanya had never imagined Allison being anxious like this. It was a mind boggling thing to consider. 

"I want both. All. I want… I want a lot of things. But if you took off your boots I'd still want you to… I'd still want to fuck you, or to be fucked by you. Or… well, you know what I mean." 

"Right," said Allison, and then she was shoving Vanya back. "Is this what you want?" The sole of her boot was pressing into Vanya's temple, and the other boot was pressing against Vanya's thigh. It was cold leather, and Vanya's hand drifted between her legs, rubbing her clit. 

She was still sore from the shoelaces, but she humped into her hand, her eyes squeezing shut, as the musky, smooth leather kept rubbing against her face, the other leather against her back. She was being engulfed in the scents, the sounds, the softness of the rug and the intensity of her own orgasm, which was already on the fringes of her neves. All of this was so _ridiculous_, so perverse, so weird. She sprawled out on her back, Allison’s boot pressed into her cheek now, and she looked up at her sister, as best she could. 

Allison’s expression was intense, and she was biting her lip. 

“I’ll do anything for you,” Vanya blurted out, as the boot ground into her face. “I’d do anything, please, I’ll… do… anything, if you… if you ask… if you…” She trailed off, and the boot moved to press down on her ribs, through her shirt. It was an intense, deep pressure, and she gasped and sobbed as her orgasm ripped through her, left her humping her hand and up into the air, her toes curling. 

“That’s… oh,” said Allison, and her voice was quiet. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” There was an open, vulnerable note to her voice, and her face was doing… something that Vanya didn’t entirely understand. 

“Sorry,” said Vanya, and she ran her fingers across the top of the boot, the smoothness of it delicious under her fingertips, aided by her own arousal, her own spit. 

“Don’t be,” said Allison. “I’ll make it up to you. Okay?” 

That was a trippy thing to think about. “Make it up to me?” Vanya sat up, carefully, regretful as Allison’s boot let her face. She nuzzled her cheek into Allison’s leg, then reached out for Allison’s hand. “It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t need to make anything up to me. Okay?” 

“Okay,” said Allison, then; “I’m going to follow more of my random fashion whims, if it sends me down _this_ kind of road.”

Vanya’s stomach squeezed pleasantly, and passed her thumb over Allison’s knuckles, then kissed the palm of her hand. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

Allison smiled, tilting her head, and the light caught in her hair. The play of those colors were just as lovely as the blue leather.


End file.
